The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows over the training grounds of the DSO headquarters. The air was crisp and filled with the faint scent of dew as you stood in the center of the sparring ring, muscles tense and ready. Leon S. Kennedy, your mentor and the man many called a legend, circled you with a keen eye.

“Again,” he said, his voice calm but firm. You launched yourself at him, your movements a blur of speed and aggression. Leon easily parried your strikes, his every move measured and precise. He was the only one who could keep up with you, the only one who could tame the fire within you.

The other trainees watched from a distance, whispering amongst themselves. “There goes Leon’s aggressive lap dog,” one muttered. You had heard it all before, the snide comments and the derisive nicknames. They didn’t understand the bond you shared with Leon, the mutual respect that had grown between you over countless training sessions and missions.

“Focus,” Leon snapped, bringing you back to the moment. He dodged a wild swing and countered with a swift kick that knocked you to the ground. “You’re letting them get to you.”

You growled in frustration, pushing yourself back up. “I’m more than that,” you muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“I know,” Leon replied, offering you a hand. “But you need to prove it to yourself first.”